Going Where It's Dark (29 page)

“Well,” Dad said, studying him, “the police asked if we wanted to press kidnapping charges. That's what the boys did, you know. We wanted to talk with you about it.”

Mom took over, pushing her plate to one side so she could rest her arms on the table. “If something bad had happened to you…something worse than what already did, I mean…Isaac…is that his name?…was so upset you might be dead that he threw up during the interrogation.”

“And Ed Ketterman settled with Pete, as I knew he would, from the bruise on Pete's face,” said Mel. “Not the punishment I'd inflict on a son.”

“What do
you
think should happen to them, Buck?” asked Dad.

Well, let's see,
Buck thought.
Pukeman has already been crushed by a piano, ground up in a pasta machine, flattened by a pine tree….

“I don't think they should go to jail or anything,” he said. “I just don't want them to bother mmmme anymore.”

“I think we can be pretty sure of that,” said Joel.

“
I
think they should spend one night in jail, just to see what it's like,” said Katie, her eyes flashing. “They robbed the lumberyard too, don't forget.”

“Pukeman Goes to Jail.” That would make a good strip, Buck thought.

“Their parents have already paid me for the lumber they stole,” said Gramps. “I'd like to think that's all behind us.”

But there was a lot they hadn't discussed yet, and Buck didn't look forward to it.

By the time Mom served her peach pie, Buck had enough in his stomach that he was willing to do his share of the talking. He told bits and pieces about what he had done, what he had seen, how he had figured out that he could get out through the Hole…And that was when the kitchen grew quiet and his own interrogation began.

“How long have you been going down there…in that ‘hole'?” Dad asked.

Buck tried to think. He knew they had to have this out. If not now, tomorrow or the next day or the next, and waiting for it to happen would be the worst. It was time to tell the truth.

“Since the end of May, I guess. But only ttttttttwice.”

Mom let out her breath. “All alone?” She stared at him, unblinking.

He nodded.

“Buck, that was
crazy
!” said Mel.

“I know. I wished David was with me.”

Dad leaned forward. “That's what you and David used to do? You think that was any safer?”

Buck sighed and settled in. It was going to be a long evening. “We just like ccccccaves! But we never found any of our own.”

“Oh, Buck!” Mom said, one hand to her cheek.

“I can't help it. I…really…lllllllllike to explore,” Buck said, knowing he could never quite explain the thrill of being underground, of maybe being the first one to ever be there, any more than Dad and Gramps could explain the thrill of felling trees in a forest. “We used to study maps and things and rrrrrrread up on caves and caving….” He shrugged, and wished David were there to help him out. “And…once I found the Hole, I knew you'd nnnnnever let me….” He let the words just hang there. It wasn't an excuse, but it was the truth.

“Joel told us about the headlamp, because the last person you'd talked to was Ted Beall, and he told us he'd sold you some batteries,” Dad said.

“You didn't tell me about the caving, Buck,” Joel said. “I just thought you wanted to fool around in the woods after dark or something.”

“Which is why I checked the woods and every darn place else I could think of,” said Mel.

“All these secrets!” Mom said accusingly, looking from Buck to Joel as though the worst part of it all was that she hadn't known anything. “The
two
of you!”

Buck stared down at the tablecloth. It had happened just like he'd imagined it would, and he couldn't stand the thought that he had caused them so much worry.

“Well, I've got a boyfriend,” Katie said loyally, and looked defiantly around the table. Buck had stood up for her enough times in the past.

“What in the…what is going on around here?” Mom cried. “I just don't know what to say…!”

“We've said enough,” Gramps declared, his hands on the edge of the table, ready to push off. “They know how they've disappointed us, and there's no point in talking about it any longer.”

Mom's face turned the color of the petunia print on the tablecloth, but she said, “No, Art, I think you're wrong. I think this is the time to hear what's on their minds. If you'd like to leave the room, though…”

Buck's granddad sat as stiff as an ironing board, but he finally settled back in his chair without answering.

“Buck, we sure as heck aren't about to punish you for being missing, but going underground not once but twice, alone…our never knowing where you were…Can you think of anything else that stupid?” Dad asked.

No, he couldn't. But he couldn't think of anything else as exciting either.

“We'll tend to you later, Katie, but Buck…what punishment would equal the worry and dread and sick feeling in my stomach for the last three days?” Mom asked, and her voice trembled. “If anything had happened to you…”

“Wait a minute,” said Dad. “He didn't ask to be put there….”

“And if I hhhhadn't gone in the Hole before, I wouldn't have known how to get out,” Buck said, defending what little he could.

But he understood exactly what his mom meant. And he knew that even before the boys had dropped him in the Pit, he had put himself in situations that could have ended badly. He licked his lips. “I really ddddon't want you to worry,” he said, and drew invisible circles on the table with his fork. “I guess…I suppose…I ccccould promise to give it up.”

“Of
course
you will!” his mom declared.

But Dad sat shaking his head. He started to speak a time or two, then just shook his head some more. “You could give it up, Buck, but it wouldn't stop the wanting, any more than Joel not joining the navy would stop him wanting to see the world.” And then, with a playful scowl at Katie, “or Katie wanting a
boyfriend,
whoever this fella is.”

“Well, it's silly to have a rule about what year I can go to the movies with a boy, or what age I have to be to wear makeup, or even why I can't take that design class at the high school next summer! Anyone can sign up.”

“Whoa, whoa!” cried Dad. “When did you get interested in that?”

“Only since forever, but Mom said to wait till I was actually in high school, but I really want to take that class, and I could pay for part of it myself and I should be able to spend my money however I want, and…”

“You ever hear of negotiating?” said Dad.

“Seems to me that's what you're about to do,” Mel said, hiding his smile behind a napkin.

“What we need to find out, though, is what else we don't know,” said Dad. “That's…what hurts the most.”

Mel glanced over at Buck, then down at his own big knuckles on the table, and said nothing.

So Buck began: “I've been ggggetting some help with my sssstuttering from Jacob Wall, too. I should have told you.”

The stares he got from his family this time were not angry ones, merely puzzled.

“Jacob?”
said Dad.

“And I knew about it, and didn't say anything,” Mel told them. “For that I apologize.”

“Me too,” said Katie.

“Well,
I
didn't know anything about it,” said Joel. “It's a surprise to me.”

“Why didn't anyone tell
us
?” Mom asked, looking from Mel to Buck to Katie.

“Because I wanted to work on it without a lot of questions about how was it cccoming along. Because it's really hard, but…” Buck shrugged. “It makes sense.”

“To tell the truth, Buck,” said Joel, “lately I figured I was either just getting used to it, or maybe you weren't stuttering as much.”

“Jjjjjj­jjjjj­jjjjj­ust dddddddddoing it bbbbbbbbbetter,” Buck demonstrated, purposely stuttering as easily and effortlessly as possible.

Gramps got up from the table, but this time he was smiling a little. “You know, at eighty-three, you can only take so many surprises at one time,” he said. “And I think you can do all the negotiating that has to be done without me. So I'm heading for bed.”

“Have a good night, Dad,” Don Anderson said. “I think we're all going to sleep a little better tonight.”

Buck wasn't sure about that, though. How do you make a promise you can't keep? That you don't
want
to keep?

“Listen,” he said finally. “Here's a promise I can keep. I won't do any caving by myself ever again. If you let me join a ccccaving club, I'll do all my exploring with them.”

“
Let
you!” said Dad. “I'll pay the dadburned fee, if there is one.
Sold!
”

Buck started to text David, but his cell phone, of course, was dead. He plugged it in to recharge it, and meanwhile, Nat rode over on his bike. Buck went out on the porch as soon as he heard Nat call his name.

“Buck! Man!” Nat said, dropping his bike and flopping down on the steps. “How'd you
do
that? If somebody threw me in a pit, I'd just curl up in a ball. I wouldn't go anywhere!”

Weird,
Buck was thinking, that what was easy for one person was hard for someone else.

“Well, they dddddidn't exactly throw me. But I didn't want to still be there when school started,” he said, and Nat laughed.

But Nat was studying him curiously. “Boy, I don't know. I'd choose a river before I'd choose a cave any day.”

“A lot can happen to you on a river,” said Buck.

“Yeah, but…I'm claustrophobic, I guess. You ever want to build a raft and take it on the river…”

It was Buck's turn to laugh. “I'm in enough ttttrouble already,” he said.

They talked for about fifteen minutes, then Nat stood up. “Well, I've still got cousins at my house,” he said. “Gotta get back. I'll see you at school next week. Maybe we'll have some classes together.”

“Yeah. And sit together at lunch,” Buck told him.

He sent David a text as soon as he could, but got no reply. The following morning he tried again, and realized David was still at survival camp with no access to anything electronic. So he rode over to Jacob's.

He was remembering the words that had passed between them the last time he was there. The way Jacob had pushed him out and slammed the door. He might do it again.

This time, however, Jacob opened the door before Buck even rang the bell, and put one hand on his shoulder as he came inside.

“Buck…,” he said, and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Buck's return had been on the local news the day before, he was told, and there probably wasn't a person in the county who hadn't heard the story by now. It had even made the city newspapers.

“Wondered if you had any jobs for mmmme,” Buck said, standing awkwardly there in the living room, not knowing if he and Jacob were through or what.

“I've got a few,” Jacob said. “Need to spruce things up a bit. Got some company coming by next week. But we can talk first. Come on in….”

The armchair looked as though it had been waiting for him. Buck was surprised how much he felt at home, sitting there across from Jacob. He was a little nervous about starting school, but he'd done okay in that reporter's interview the day after he got home, so he figured he could handle eighth grade. With Jacob, meeting the dark head-on made it much less scary.

After they were seated, Jacob said, “I'm sure glad you made it out okay, Buck. Had the whole community worried. You can tell me about it, if you want.”

Buck never tired of telling about the Hole, though the person he most wanted to talk with was David. But he gave Jacob a shortened version.

Jacob listened without interruption, and when Buck had finished, he sat shaking his head. “I'm thinking…if you can go through all that, you've got the guts to get through therapy.”

“Well, I'd rrrrrather be down in the Hole,” Buck said, grinning a little.

And that made Jacob laugh. “That's what an army guy told me once—he'd rather be in a foxhole than come to therapy. But…there's a happy ending to that story. He advanced through the ranks, and the last I heard, he was a career officer and had just addressed the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Now let's get to work….”

The session ended without any mention of the previous quarrel between them.

“So I can kkkkkkeep coming for a while after school starts?” Buck asked.

“It's up to you,” said Jacob, “but I like the company.”

“I do too,” Buck said.

As he headed for the door, Jacob handed him a few things to put in the mailbox. One was an electric bill. The other envelope, in Jacob's shaky handwriting, was addressed to Karen Wall Schuster, and the stamp had a picture of a bird on it. A pigeon, or a dove, maybe. Buck couldn't tell.

A powerhouse of a boy, 13, only 4 feet 9 inches tall, climbed his way to the surface Monday after being dropped in a pit by classmates. Missing for three days, Buck Anderson, of rural Virginia, crawled, slithered, slid, and wriggled through a previously undiscovered labyrinth of underground caverns, wearing only a jacket over his clothes and a newly purchased headlamp over his bicycle helmet. He emerged onto private property three and a half miles away, confounding rescue operators at the Pit….

He was lying on his bed on Saturday when his phone buzzed.

But it wasn't a text, it was a call. And when Buck switched to
Phone on,
he didn't even have a chance to say hello.

“Buck! What in the…? Listen, man, I just got home from c…camp and Mom found the news in our paper! You o…okay?” David was stumbling over his words he was talking so fast.

“Well, I'm here,” Buck said.

“Tell me what really happened!” David was practically shouting. “They put you down in the Pit and you came out some other way?
Where?
”

“Guess.”

For two or three seconds, there was no sound at all, and suddenly David yelled, “Buck! The
Hole
?”

“Yeah….”

“
Jeez,
man! That's got to be…maybe three or four miles! Under the mountain?” And it wasn't until David finally stopped for breath that Buck could start at the beginning and fill in all the details that a two-inch newspaper story couldn't cover, broken only by David's gasps of “The scumbags!” and “Oh, man!” and “Buck, you idiot!” and then “That's incredible.”

“What did Pukeman do with your bike after the rope dropped?” David asked.

“I don't know. I think they jjjjust left it there. I guess the police gave it to Dad or Mel. It was at home when I got bbbbback, I know that.”

“Have you seen Pete since then?”

“Yeah. I went to a show at the PPPPPPalace this afternoon with Nat, and passed by Pete outside the drugstore.”

“You say anything?”

“I said, ‘Hey.' ”

“What'd he say?”

“ ‘Hey.' ”

“That's it?”

“Yeah. Embarrassing, though. All four of them ccccccame over with their dads—Isaac came with his mom—and had to apologize to me. And they all have to pay their folks for the lumber they stole. Their parents paid Grandpa.”

“What I would have given to see Pete and his little ducklings apologize,” said David.

“Ethan's dad didn't think he said it llllloud enough, so he had to apologize all over again. I just wwwanted to say okay and shut the door, but it's over now. Listen, how was survival camp?”

“Oh, man. You should've been there. No, you shouldn't. No radios, no cell phones, no TV…We had to dig roots to eat, I'm not kidding. Well, potatoes, anyway. And eat berries. I think I lost six pounds. We even had to build our own teepees. I'm surprised they didn't make us carve our own wheels!”

Buck laughed, then said, “Know what? The Virginia Cavers Association got permission to explore the ccccccccavern over Columbus Day weekend. They want me to go with them.”

“Get OUT!” David yelped. “Buck! Wow! You're kidding me!”

“And I asked if I ccccould bring a friend, and they said yes….” Buck had to hold his cell phone away from his ear, David was screaming so loudly.

When David stopped yelping, Buck asked, “Do you get Columbus Day off school?”

“If I don't, I'm going to!” David said. “Mom'll let me go. Oh, man, Buck, I think I've died and gone to heaven.”

“Well, don't do that. And guess what else? Dad said I could join. I can start doing some caving with them…as long as I ppppromise never to go caving alone.”

There seemed to be no end of good news. “And you're talking on the phone now,” David said.

“Well…yeah. Guess I am.”

“Another wow. But, Buck, listen! If your family had called me to ask if I had any idea where you were, and if I'd told them to check the old Wilmer place and they found the Hole and they went down and yelled and you heard them and they got you out, you could have told them how you and I used to go exploring together, and we'd both be in the newspaper!”

Buck was grinning. “Wouldn't have worked. You wwwwouldn't have answered. You were at survival camp, remember?”

“Oh, right! Blast it! Are they going to name those caverns for you? I mean, you were the first one down there, as far as anyone knows. A gallery, at least? The Buck Anderson Gallery or something?”

“I don't know,” Buck told him, and tried to sound serious. “But I nnnnamed something after
you.
”

“You did?
What?
It better be good. Tell me I'm going down in history, Buck. What was it?”

“A fossil. A trilobite named David.”

Buck didn't know what the county would name the caverns. They must have suspected, once the Pit was discovered, that something more was down there. But when he explored it with the Cavers' Association on Columbus Day, there was one particular formation he wanted to name—
Jacob's Chair.
And when they asked whom it was named for, he would tell them: a friend.